Sorry
by Blodwyn
Summary: Important Messages For People. Separate Stories that belong together.
1. Sorry

TITLE: Sorry

AUTHOR: Blodwyn  
E-MAIL: blodwyn29@btopenworld.com  
SUMMARY: A visitor with an important message for Lorne  
RATING: PG-13  
TIMELINE: 3 or 4 months after the end of Season 3

DISTRIBUTION: ffNet. LoveLorne. Anyone else please ask.  
SPOILERS: not really, but it helps if you know what happened at the end of season 3.

DISCLAIMER: Don't own a Thing: not even the computer it's written on. Joss and Co are all Gods!

Sorry.

This had to be the place. It was the sixth bar he had tried, or maybe seventh. When you had walked down as many staircases as he had tonight you could forget these things. He slipped in past the huge grey demon bouncer at the door. And went to the bar. No one paid him the slightest bit of notice, either they were used to seeing the occasional human in here or they simply didn't care. He hoped it was the later, because that way he wouldn't be considered a snack for anyone. 

He leaned on the bar, trying to catch the barman's attention.

Someone jostled him from behind and instinctively he turned to speak, the words dying in his throat as he caught sight of his target.

He hadn't changed a bit, but then was it expected that he would have. The intervening months had passed without a single word and now this journey, a burning need to be here. He watched the other man for a while, not daring to approach. He was dressed in his usual style, a perfectly tailored orange suit over a blue shirt. White handkerchief gently poking from the breast pocket, familiar drink in hand. He was laughing at something, he looked so happy, and something twisted in the watcher's stomach. But he couldn't look away. 

With an uncanny instinct Lorne looked up, he knew he was being watched. His eyes met his watchers across the room, and the smile died on his lips. This was unexpected. And that upset Lorne more than Him being across the room, because he liked to know what was happening. Lorne took another sip of drink. Not hearing what the seated demon was saying to him, even though it had been so very interesting and amusing mere seconds before. 

He couldn't tear his eyes away from the blue ones across the room. He wanted to go over there and either hug their owner or punch him in the face. Lorne held his breath, till the wave of anger had passed. He had managed to convince himself he understood the others actions, had tried to sympathise with the difficult decision that had been made. But the anger was still there. Suddenly he could clearly imagine the rage that Angel had felt. And his own anger evaporated. The poor guy didn't need the both of them hating him. When Lorne found he was no longer angry, he put his drink down on the table and leaving his demonic friend in mid conversation walked toward his new visitor, never looking away from his eyes. Lorne stopped next to his visitor at the bar, they simply looked at each other. A thousand unsaid words hung in the air, as the moment stretched on into what seemed like infinity. Lorne had already made the decision to stand there until the other one spoke; he wanted to know what could be said now. 

The visitor reached out and touched the side of Lorne's face, there was no mark there but he knew that it was where he had hit him. Lorne didn't move just let the other touch soothe him. A smile played about Lorne's lips and the hand was removed. Lorne took it before it was out of reach. And they both smiled.

Suddenly he found the words he needed.

"I'm sorry," said Wesley.


	2. Whispered in the Dark

TITLE: Whispered in the Dark

AUTHOR: Blodwyn  
E-MAIL: blodwyn29@btopenworld.com  
SUMMARY: A Companion Piece to Sorry. Not a Sequel.  
RATING: PG-13  
TIMELINE: 3 or 4 months after the end of Season 3

DISTRIBUTION: ffNet. Anyone else please ask.  
SPOILERS: not really, but it helps if you know what happened at the end of season 3.

DISCLAIMER: Don't own a Thing: not even the computer it's written on. Joss and Co are all Gods!

Whispered in the Dark

He had snuck back into the room quite late, she had lain in her bed pretending to be asleep, not wanting to face him. It was getting harder and harder to look him in the eyes, to look at his hatred so deep and twisting. It mirrored her guilt perfectly. She hoped he could live with it better than she was coping with her feelings. She quietly slipped out of bed and padded to the bathroom. 

Leaning over the small basin she peered at herself in the mirror, bags under her eyes, red hair limp and sticking to her head, even she had to admit she looked awful. Well when you killed someone that happened. Only this wasn't just someone she had killed. She had loved him, he had talked her round. It was what he wanted. A last message to his son, the boy now sleeping next door. But she was plagued each moment of each day with visions of her deed. She was crumbling. The anger that had driven her to him in the first place was gone. All that remained was the guilt. She slumped into a ball, leaning her head against the side of the bathtub. Surprising even herself when the tears finally came.

He lay still, holding his breath as he heard her get up and go into the bathroom. When the door clicked shut, he breathed out. She was making him nervous, she was jittery and acting guilty all the time, she wouldn't even look at him any more. If she folded, gave in, he would have to take care of her as well. He didn't need that bunch of demon-loving do-gooders interfering. His anger and hatred surged to the surface of his mind again. The Evil he had to battle, his father had wanted him to battle that evil from inside it's own lair, but he had better idea's. Leave the monster where he was. Stephen turned over in the bed, a small grin on his face. Let Angelus rest where he was, for all eternity. He would never be found. Stephen was only sorry that his vampire mother was dust. He would have liked to send her to join that monster claiming to be his Father. Stephen froze. She was coming back.

She stood, wiping her face on the towel. Leaving the bathroom she made a decision. She couldn't go on like this. She would find his friends and tell them what had happened. The boy would hate her for it. She wished she had gone with her instinct and simply dusted Angelus. She pulled on a pair of grubby trainers, and put on her coat. Pausing by the sleeping boy she stared. He looked so innocent asleep. And she had destroyed that. Holding back more tears she reached out a hand, and gently brushed some hair out of his face.

"I'm Sorry" Justine Whispered.


End file.
